


the edge of something good

by paravin



Series: less fight, more spark [3]
Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29844360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paravin/pseuds/paravin
Summary: Holliday takes Crow for a drink in the City. Things progress from there.
Relationships: Amanda Holliday/The Crow (Destiny)
Series: less fight, more spark [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194056
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	the edge of something good

**Author's Note:**

> based on the new Battlegrounds dialogue:
> 
> Holliday: Hey, you wanna get a drink or somethin’ when we get back?  
> Crow: In the City? I’ve… always wanted to try that.  
> Holliday: You ain’t never had a drink in the City before? Oh, Crow, buddy. Buckle up.
> 
> mostly just soft porn with bonus feelings.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the drink,” Crow says, raising his glass in a toast, “but maybe we didn’t think this through.”

He taps the rim of the glass against where the mask covers his mouth and smiles beneath it at the way Holliday laughs. 

“Surely you can take it off for one night?” she asks hopefully. “I promise not to say anything to Osiris.”

Crow sets his drink down, untouched. “It isn’t just Osiris,” he admits. “It’s… complicated.”

“You’re an enigma, I know,” Holliday teases. “You’re gonna be a dehydrated enigma at this rate. How’re you supposed to eat and drink when you’re out in the field?”

“I’m _not_ supposed to eat and drink when I’m out in the field,” Crow says. “I have some space at the HELM for that.”

“Psht, everyone needs a snack.” She leans in, sizing him up, and Crow fights the urge to retreat lower under his hood. “You just need something that covers your face, right? It don’t have to be that exact mask?”

“I guess?” Crow says. “What did you…”

He trails off when Holliday yanks the scarf from around her neck. She holds it up to his face, poking at it with the skewer from her cocktail, then promptly tears a couple of holes in it. “This should do it!”

Crow blinks at her and Holliday slaps him on the shoulder. “Go on, go try it on! I didn’t ruin a perfectly good bandanna just for fun, you know.”

It falls into his lap and Crow turns it over in his fingers. It’s warm from where it was nestled against her neck and the thought of wearing it as a mask seems strangely intimate. “I shouldn’t-”

“You said you’d come for drinks, right? It’s no fun if I’m the only one doing the drinking,” she says. “Now go change in the bathroom or something. I promise I won’t peek.”

Reaching out to Glint, Crow only gets a shrug of confusion. It isn’t a ‘no’ though, and so he slides off his stool and makes for the bathroom with a quick nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

Holliday’s eyes narrow with teasing anger. “Crow, if you ‘ma’am’ me again, I swear…”

Crow laughs but is gone before she can finish the threat. The bar is busy, crowded with civilians drinking and talking, but the cubicles in the bathroom are secure enough for him to feel comfortable removing his mask for a moment. 

It’s difficult without a mirror but between Glint’s guidance and a couple of failed attempts, he finally gets the scarf situated over his face. The eyeholes are roughly hewn and slightly lopsided, but the material is soft against his nose and cheeks, and Crow tries not to think about the way his heart races when he catches Holliday’s scent on the fabric.

Tugging his hood back into place, Crow stashes his real mask in Glint’s stores and winds his way back out through the crowd. Holliday is where he left her, swinging her legs as she hums along to the music, and while he debates catching her by surprise, he decides against risking a punch to the face in return. 

“Any better?”

She looks up at him as he settles back beside her and Crow can’t hide his own grin when she breaks into laughter. “That bad, huh?”

“You look like you’re going to rob a bank,” Holliday says. “Guess this is a case of ‘be careful what you wish for’, huh?”

Crow feigns standing up again. “I can go change back if you prefer…”

“No, no! It’s fine, it’s just… different.” She reaches over to tug sharply on his cloak. “Sit. Stay.”

The teasing order is a million miles from Spider barking something similar at him, and heat rises beneath Crow’s ribs as he spreads his hands in surrender. “Sitting and staying.”

“At least I can see your mouth now,” Holliday says happily. Her cheeks abruptly go red. “I mean, uh, at least your mouth is free. For drinking. Here.”

She shoves Crow’s cocktail into his hands with enough force that it spills over the edge, and Crow licks sugary liquid from his finger as a test. “It tastes… sharp? Fruity?”

“That’s the pineapple,” Holliday says sagely. “A key component of all the worst cocktails.”

“The worst?” His lips part in mock outrage. “Are you trying to poison me, Holliday?”

“Just giving you the authentic City drinking experience!” Her glass clinks against his, more gently this time, and there’s a gleam in her eye as she grins. “Don’t worry, newbie. I promise to go easy on you.”  


———

  
“Y’know, I like your mouth.”

Sprawled in a booth, Crow downs the last of his drink before looking at Holliday with a perplexed smile. “Thank you?”

After the awful pineapple concoction, the drinks have only slightly improved as the night has gone on. While Crow doesn’t think he’s fully drunk yet, he’s enjoying the pleasant buzz of the alcohol in his system, and from the way Holliday leans into him, she’s apparently enjoying it too.

Her hand comes up to rest against the side of his neck, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw beneath the fabric of his hood. “I’m just saying. It’s a real pity you gotta keep covered up all the time.”

Crow tries not to read too much into the contact. Her breath is warm and smells faintly of whatever almond drink she last had, and he eases an arm around her shoulder as he says, “It’s for the best. I like the work I’m doing here — I don’t want to jeopardise that.”

“Well, I don’t wanna jeopardise it either,” Holliday says with a little _hmph_. “Your flying could use some work but I like having you around. Makes a nice change from Saladin and Osiris.” Her lips curve in a lazy smile. “Although if I could just get one new Guardian who doesn’t have some kind of animal theme going on…”

Crow laughs. He feels more relaxed than he has in months, despite the number of people around them, and he toys idly with the ends of Holliday’s hair as he admits, “I didn’t exactly pick the name.”

“No?” Holliday looks up at that, eyes bright. “Where’d it come from? That a gift from Osiris too?”

“Spider,” Crow says, wrinkling his nose. The fabric of the scarf shifts and he reaches up to fix it. “Some kind of joke, I think. I never got the punchline, whatever it was.”

It’s supposed to be lighthearted but from the pity in her eyes, he knows he misjudged it. 

“He sounds like a dick,” Holliday says flatly, and Crow can’t help the laugh that escapes him.

“Pretty much.”

“You could change it, you know? Your name? You don’t have to be what he called you forever.”

Crow shrugs. “I’ve been called worse. Besides, coming from people I like, it doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Croooow,” Holliday sing-songs. “Crow, Crow, Crowww.”

Crow pauses. “Wait, can I change my mind?”

“Too late,” she says, poking him in the ribs. “You’re stuck with it now, buddy. Those are the rules.”

Her hand drops to his lap and Crow’s breath catches a little as she links her fingers through his. There’s still grease smeared on her arm, and gun oil stains the back of his thumb, but if she notices, she doesn’t seem to care. 

“Holliday…”

He doesn’t know how to phrase it, how to warn and encourage in the same breath, but when she looks up at him, he can’t find any words at all.

There’s a little smile on her lips and a confidence in her tone, even as her eyes search his for approval. “I’m gonna make use of that shiny new mouth of yours, if that’s alright?”

Crow smiles, even as his cheeks heat in pleased embarrassment, and he manages a mute nod in response.

He’s been _made use of_ before, more times than he can count, but as Holliday leans up to catch his lips in a kiss, there’s no comparison. She kisses him like he’s a person rather than an object, shifting position to cup his cheek as she moves in closer. Her lips are soft against his, the taste of almond and liquor lingering on her tongue, and Crow squeezes her hand in gratitude as heat blossoms under her touch.

When they break apart, he’s grateful to have the cover of the mask to hide his blush. Holliday sighs in contentment, swiping her thumb over her own lips as she admits, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

“We could do more than that if you like?”

The offer comes out before Crow can second-guess himself and he feels his blush darken when Holliday looks up at him in surprise. “Wouldn’t have had you pegged as a first date guy.”

“This is a date?”

“Wow, a ‘before the first date’ guy?” She grins. “You harlot.”

Crow laughs. “We don’t need to,” he says. “This was… nice.”

“ _Nice_?”

“Really nice,” he corrects, before Holliday can poke him again. “I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to the City.”

“Well, good,” she says. “I don’t do this for just anyone, you know.” She leans up to kiss him again and says with exaggerated contemplation, “I guess I wouldn’t mind spending a tiny bit more time together. Somewhere more private.”

“The HELM?”

Holliday shrugs. “I guess. If that’s-”

The transmat fires before she can finish her sentence. It’s Glint’s (enthusiastic) doing, rather than Crow’s, and he doesn’t get chance to warn her before the darkness of the bar disappears, and the two of them drop heavily to the wooden floor of the HELM.

“Shit,” Crow hisses. He scrambles to his feet and bends to help Holliday off the ground. “I’m sorry. I- Glint was a little too eager.”

He feels a little pulse of apology from Glint over their connection and exhales in relief when Holliday makes it upright, swaying slightly. “He really doesn’t waste any time, does he?”

“He’s just very excited whenever I make a friend,” Crow admits. “It doesn’t happen often.”

“And here I thought you and Lord Saladin were best pals.” She rests her arms against Crow’s shoulders as she tilts her head up to kiss him. “Don’t tell me you’ve been bending him over the war table too?”

“I don’t think either of us would enjoy that experience,” Crow says with a grimace. His nose brushes hers as he leans down, hands settling on her waist. “No, the honors of the war table are all yours.”

The lights of the HELM are dimmed, the space lit only by the glow of the table, and Crow’s grateful for the semi-darkness as they stumble clumsily across the room. Holliday winces when the backs of her thighs hit the edge of the table harder than Crow expected, and Crow kisses her in apology as his hands fumble with her belt. 

“If Zavala asks, we did not do this here,” Holliday warns him, and Crow nods. She pulls back for a second, pushing her pants down her legs, but Crow nudges her hand away when she goes to unfasten his pants too. “Everything okay?”

“Perfect,” he promises. He lowers his head, pressing a soft kiss under her jaw as he whispers, “You did say you wanted to use my mouth though…”

He could swear he feels Holliday’s cheeks heat. A little shiver goes through her but when she pulls back, it’s just to sink to a seat on the table, panties hitched down and legs spread. “Be my guest.”

The only hint of nerves is in the way she catches her lip between her teeth and Crow squeezes her thigh in reassurance as he sinks to his knees in front of her. Her pants and panties tangle around her calves as he pushes them down but there’s enough give to allow Crow access. From the way she flinches, his hands are cold and he trails kisses up her inner thighs in compensation. 

He hasn’t done this before, at least not in this lifetime, but as he lowers his head to press a slow, deep kiss to her clit, he’s pleased to find that, like shooting a gun or crashing a ship, it still comes naturally. 

More than that, it feels _good_. 

With the makeshift mask still covering his nose and cheeks, it’s hard to be as thorough as he’d like, but as he licks over her clit with light, teasing strokes, it seems to be having the desired effect. Holliday groans above him, hands coming to rest against his head before she thinks better of it, and Crow makes a noise of encouragement against her pussy as he dips down to lick at her entrance. 

“Holy shit,” Holliday mumbles, and when Crow glances up, she flashes him a dazed smile. “Honestly think it might be a crime keeping that mouth locked away. I’m gonna have to have words with Osiris.”

She groans again when Crow laughs against her, and she shifts back to lie against the table as he slips one finger inside her. He can feel everything when he returns to her clit, every shiver, every flinch, every clench around his finger, and when he works a second inside, he has to transmat his glove into storage to prevent the wetness soaking into his armor. 

“Fuck,” Holliday gasps, pushing her hips up to gain more friction. “I did not expect the night to end like this.”

Crow wants to point out that they’ve got plenty of night left yet but that would mean taking his mouth off her, which is not an acceptable solution. He feels her shudder as he sucks gently on her clit, curving his fingers inside her, and when he glances up, it’s to see her arching happily on the table, chasing every bit of pressure she can get.

She whines when he pulls back, and Crow kisses her thigh again as he says, “Lift your legs.”

She complies, ankles still trapped together by her clothes, and Crow ducks beneath her until her legs are slung over his shoulders, her thighs either side of his head. The weight of her prosthetic is heavy against his back but he adjusts position, bracing on his knees to look up as much as the position allows. “That okay?”

She nods, propped up on her elbows. “You sure that’s comfortable? My leg…”

Crow answers by way of a slow sweep of his tongue from her entrance up to her clit and he grins at the thunk of Holliday dropping back to the table with a sigh. His hood falls back and he doesn’t bother to push his hair out of his face as he settles happily between her thighs, sliding knuckle-deep again with ease.

Her hands find his hair, curling through it as much as the scarf allows, but Crow freezes for a second when he feels her tug impatiently at the covering. “I shouldn’t-”

“I won’t look,” Holliday promises. “Can’t see much more than the top of your head from here anyway.”

Unease shivers through him but it’s more than outweighed by the heat of Holliday’s body against him, and when the scarf falls away, Crow buries his face against her with relief. Wetness smears over his cheeks and chin, even coating the tip of his nose as he breathes in the taste of her, and he relishes the noises he coaxes from her with every lick and suck.

The demanding tug of her hand in his hair only makes the heat pooling in his belly burn hotter, and he fits his lips to her clit again. He fucks his fingers deep with slow strokes, crooking the tips against her wall, and his chest tightens from lack of air as he flicks his tongue over her again and again and again until Holliday’s thighs are almost shaking hard enough to dislodge him.

“Oh, fuck,” Holliday groans. 

She cants her hips up to meet his mouth, grinding desperately against his face, but Crow doesn’t take his mouth off her as she arches on the table with a cry.

She comes with a muffled yell, pussy clenching around his fingers and hands buried in his hair. Her hips buck against the table, enough that Crow has to hold her down as he licks her through the aftershocks, and he only pulls away when he feels her twist away from the overstimulation.

His face is a mess, smeared with spit and slick, but he can’t keep the grin from his lips as he sits back on his heels to lower her legs carefully back to the ground. “You good?”

“Mnnrgh,” Holliday says, coherently. She’s flat on her back, eyes on the ceiling and body bathed blue in the light of the table, and Crow swipes a hand over his mouth as he drinks in the sight. “That sure was something…”

He wants to stare longer, wants to crawl up onto the table and kiss her until his lips are numb, but he knows better. The scarf is a lost cause but with a nudge to Glint, his mask appears in his hand again and he fits it quickly back in place. 

Holliday glances over, exhausted but satisfied, and reaches for him. 

Before Crow can take her hand, her smile fades a little at the sight of the mask. 

“Already?” she asks. It’s not a challenge, not really, but more a quiet pout. “It’s just us.”

“I know,” Crow murmurs. He thinks someday soon, maybe, he might be allowed to show himself but not here and now. Rising to his feet, he leans over the table to press a kiss to her forehead through the thick barrier of the mask. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.” She kisses the bare skin of his jaw and smiles. “After a performance like that, you definitely shouldn’t be apologising. I mean, damn, pal…”

That draws a laugh from him, and he moves around to her legs to help ease her pants back into place. 

Holliday grumbles but flails for his help as she drags herself back to a sitting position. “Hate to break it to you but I don’t think my legs are going to be working for a while.”

Crow’s head snaps up. “You’re injured?”

Holliday rolls her eyes. “No, you idiot. A girl just needs some time to recover.”

“Oh.” He can’t help the spark of pride at the admission and when Holliday pats the war table next to her, he sits to let her lean against him. “I’m glad you had fun.”

“Did _you_?” she asks. “This was supposed to be your big night out, not just me nearly blacking out on the Vanguard’s property.”

Crow nods, surprised by the force of his own sincerity. “I really did.”

“Well then,” she says around a yawn, “maybe we can do this again sometime. There are so many more terrible cocktails I need to make you try.”

Crow smiles. As awful as the pineapple one was, right now he can’t think of anything he wants more. “It’s a date.”


End file.
